I've been doing Bikram yoga (aka Hot yoga or the Bad kind) for about 6 years on and off. I've had such a love/hate relationship with it. I discovered early on that it is fantastic for my arms and if I'm doing it regularly, my arms and hands don't hurt in my job. Bonus! Doing massage with pain-free hands and elbows is a good thing. When I stop going to yoga for more than a couple weeks, the pain returns. I've tested this over and over again when I get slack about going.
I never entirely understand why I get slack about going because I know how much it benefits me. I just start to think about how hard it is, especially in certain poses, and that whiny 3 year-old in my head takes over - I DON'T WANNA! - and I opt out.
So I did a 30-day challenge in June, which was incredibly hard, but also much easier than I thought because it took the decision making out of going. I didn't have to make that choice every day because I had committed to going, and the only decision there was was which class I was going to attend.
Since I've finished the 30 days, it has become more challenging again to get myself there. I planned to go 5-6 days a week for several more months to keep up the momentum, but it has been more like 4, and since I haven't been feeling well the past few weeks, it has been more intermittent.
But I've been taking a workshop this weekend which breaks down all the poses and discusses what they do for you, which muscles, joints and even chakras they affect. It is also reinforcing the idea that there should be no expectations going into class. Every class is your first, so it doesn't matter where you got in a pose yesterday or last week, it is all about where you are today. It's really freeing, providing you can turn off your ego and brain, and even what the teacher is saying to you, and just go with it. Some instructors have said this in the past, but others are always trying to get you to go further and further regardless of what's going on with you at that exact moment.
The class is surprisingly small - I guess spending an extra 8 hours in a hot yoga studio during a heat wave and long weekend isn't appealing to everyone - but I especially wish more instructors were in attendance. There's some profound shit going on and I wish they could pass it along to lots of people.
I had an amazing class yesterday after the workshop, and left feeling like I'd been hit by a Mac truck, but in a good way. I'm not sure I buy into all the stuff they're saying as my new-age-bullshit detector went off a couple times, but I'm willing to suspend disbelief for a bit and see where it gets me.
Namaste!
August 02, 2009
April 11, 2009
Clearing it out
I've been going to counselling for a while to help me deal with the grief over Mum's death. It seems to be helping although there are still good days and some very bad days. It will be a year next month since she died and I know May is going to be a very rough month for me. My counsellor is great, though, and she's definitely giving me some tools to get through it more easily.
One thing I didn't expect from the counselling sessions was to discover childhood issues that affect me to this day. I was bullied by my friends pretty badly in primary school and it never occurred to me that I'd have leftovers from that 25 years later. I mean, we're all screwed up by our childhoods, right? But in examining things is great detail, I've learned that a big part of why I'm very cautious at making friends, and rarely put myself into vulnerable positions with people until I'm really comfortable is because of the way those "friends" treated me. Go figure!
Anyway, the gist of the whole thing is that I did a bunch of intense processing and have managed to let go of a pile of those issues and will hopefully be able to move forward with fewer hangups. I feel lighter and freer and it's pretty cool.
One thing I didn't expect from the counselling sessions was to discover childhood issues that affect me to this day. I was bullied by my friends pretty badly in primary school and it never occurred to me that I'd have leftovers from that 25 years later. I mean, we're all screwed up by our childhoods, right? But in examining things is great detail, I've learned that a big part of why I'm very cautious at making friends, and rarely put myself into vulnerable positions with people until I'm really comfortable is because of the way those "friends" treated me. Go figure!
Anyway, the gist of the whole thing is that I did a bunch of intense processing and have managed to let go of a pile of those issues and will hopefully be able to move forward with fewer hangups. I feel lighter and freer and it's pretty cool.
February 08, 2009
What is the opposite of linear?
Grief is weird.
One would think that it was a very linear process: you'd feel really crappy at the beginning, then as time goes on, you'd feel better and better. It's simply not the case.
In fact, for the first couple years, it seems to be a reverse process. In the beginning, you're actually doing fairly well. You're in shock more than anything, even if the death was expected. I don't think we ever believe death will truly happen, even if you've been watching it get closer and closer.
You function fairly well initially because there's so much to do. There's simply no time to fall apart when so much planning and organizing has to happen. Of course there are blips when it hits hard, but then you have to get back to getting stuff done.
A few months later, some of that numbness starts to wear off and you start feeling things. Bad things. But at this point, people expect you to be feeling better, not the reverse. You're back at work and involved in activities, and it's hard to explain why you want to take to your bed now, rather than immediately following your loss.
This cycle of normalcy and misery bounces back and forth for a long time. Strange things set it off either direction. I've watched a movie that mimicked my experience without feeling much, then something seemingly unrelated will just shatter me and every raw feeling will be right there at the surface. It's very exciting (not in a good way!) because you never know when it's going to happen. I've started crying while singing Christmas carols. I sobbed every time I saw a trailer for the movie "Australia", though not during the movie itself (a little dull). Other times, I just feel crappy or angry for a few days, a few weeks, and can't seem to shake it.
Having been through this before with my dad, I know that over time it does get much better and ebbs and flows of grief level off, but I also know it doesn't happen for the first couple years. I'll be bursting into tears at inopportune times for a while to come now, but I know it is all a part of the process.
One would think that it was a very linear process: you'd feel really crappy at the beginning, then as time goes on, you'd feel better and better. It's simply not the case.
In fact, for the first couple years, it seems to be a reverse process. In the beginning, you're actually doing fairly well. You're in shock more than anything, even if the death was expected. I don't think we ever believe death will truly happen, even if you've been watching it get closer and closer.
You function fairly well initially because there's so much to do. There's simply no time to fall apart when so much planning and organizing has to happen. Of course there are blips when it hits hard, but then you have to get back to getting stuff done.
A few months later, some of that numbness starts to wear off and you start feeling things. Bad things. But at this point, people expect you to be feeling better, not the reverse. You're back at work and involved in activities, and it's hard to explain why you want to take to your bed now, rather than immediately following your loss.
This cycle of normalcy and misery bounces back and forth for a long time. Strange things set it off either direction. I've watched a movie that mimicked my experience without feeling much, then something seemingly unrelated will just shatter me and every raw feeling will be right there at the surface. It's very exciting (not in a good way!) because you never know when it's going to happen. I've started crying while singing Christmas carols. I sobbed every time I saw a trailer for the movie "Australia", though not during the movie itself (a little dull). Other times, I just feel crappy or angry for a few days, a few weeks, and can't seem to shake it.
Having been through this before with my dad, I know that over time it does get much better and ebbs and flows of grief level off, but I also know it doesn't happen for the first couple years. I'll be bursting into tears at inopportune times for a while to come now, but I know it is all a part of the process.
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